


Avail - Day 10

by KISkellington



Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Duskwight Elezen (Final Fantasy XIV), Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Emotional Hurt, Final Fantasy XIV Spoilers, Gen, Headcanon, Hurt No Comfort, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Minor Alternate Universe - Slight Canon Divergence, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Over use of ingame quotes, References to Depression, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KISkellington/pseuds/KISkellington
Summary: "Avail"verb1.LITERARYhelp or benefit2.INDIANuse or take advantage of (an opportunity or available resource)“I… have lost so much, given up mine own wishes for what was best for this very star…”
Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921033
Kudos: 1





	Avail - Day 10

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Heavensward! Spoilers for Stormblood! Spoilers for Shadowbringers!
> 
> I _literally_ quoted word for word text from the game! I don't think I can stress spoilers enough.
> 
> Also headcanons abound.

_ “Who…  _ What _ are you?” _

It was a period of peace. The First, from what Feo Ul has conveyed, had no need of its Warrior of Darkness. The Scions, though still weakened from their slumber, were safe in their bodies. G’raha, the former Crystal Exarch, had no underlying issues of merging together aside from an increased appetite and forgetfulness on his part for pushing himself past what he should as he was no longer drawing upon the power of the Crystal Tower. The Source was quiet. There was a stalemate between Garlemald and the Alliance forces, skirmishes too small for the leaders to bother the Warrior of Light with. Nor were there any reports of Primal activity. Xynal was allowed to rest in both body and mind.

Yet due to no longer having pressing issues to occupy his mind with, the words of the late King Thordan once more surfaced from the recesses of his memories, echoing the very words the duskwight himself asked since he laid low Garuda and haunting his every step since. 

“What  _ was _ he?” For surely, even with Hydaelyn’s blessing, could no man truly be this powerful to slay primals left and right, whose only rival was Zenos yae Galvus -  _ was _ for he too was defeated - who stopped voidsent and sin eaters both and whom toppled several Ascians.

His first answer was the worry that he was himself a primal. After all were they not beings who were invoked by prayer and sustained by crystals? He did carry the six crystals Hydaelyn bade him to find. And as abhorred as the thought was to him, he would not be surprised if many in the realm prayed not for him but  _ to _ him. The thought was immediately dismissed. None of the primals he’d witness came from humans. And then came Great King Moogle Mog XII, a primal made out of naught more than faerie tales. Furthermore, not long after him came Shiva: a primal born and formed from an elezen woman named Ysayle. With all that came afterwards of that reveal, he shoved the worries to the back of his mind for him to dissect and mull over when he could.

Zenos did not help this fear of his. True though it was that the elezen found nothing in common between them save for their strength, Zenos showed him what he could have been,  _ what he still could be _ . He thanked the Twelve for his chirugeon training and the techniques they instilled in him for erasing such thoughts in a time of stress, for he’d have fallen otherwise.

His second answer was that he was a monster. What did it matter what it was called? A creature by any other name was just as dangerous. This revelation was why he shunned the dark arts when it was offered, why he abandoned his white magic once Thordan and his knights were dealt with, and why, no menial the task, he did his best to help others. Monstrous he may be, he would not give into his darkness and become a dark knight, he refused to taint the art of conjury further and become the white mages of eld who abused its power and corrupted it to harm rather than help, and Twelves be damned if he was going to become the second coming of Zenos and begin to no longer care for his fellow man and instead resent and be bored by them.

So accepting of this title was he, that when told by Y’shtola and Ryne that his soul, his very aether, was slowly being corrupted, that he was going to turn into a Lightwarden himself, he felt acceptance. T’was what he was after all. His first regret was that he would be much too powerful for anyone to destroy him and as such he would wreak havoc on all of Norvrandt and those who he had come to love. His second regret...

His final answer was that he was an Ancient, an Ascian, one whose soul was split betwixt ten and three. ...Who knew Emet-Selch, Hades. Was  _ friends _ with him. Standing there at the bottom of The Ladder talking with Emet-Selch, he could feel the older man’s loneliness and despair when he spoke about Amarout. He couldn’t help but bring up their little bet as the Ascian was about to leave: 

_ “Please don’t,” he remembers saying, causing the former Garlean emperor to pause, “Don’t call me ‘hero’, not when we both know I will fail.” The surprise he saw in those golden eyes when the taller man turned around made him give a pained smile back.  _

_ “Giving up already?” Xynal was pleasantly relieved there was no mocking tone to the man’s voice. In fact, he couldn’t place it.  _

_ He shook his head. “I will go to Mt. Gulg, to finish what we’ve started. I will do my utmost to contain the light within me. I will pray that I am enough, wish to be with all mine heart. But I will fail. I will let down my friends and this world.” He swallowed thickly, unsure if it was wise to continue. ‘I will let you down,’ he wanted to say. And oh how it pained him for reasons he still does not understand. He instead said, “I am not…  _ whole _ enough, am I?” _

_ The last he saw of the other until the summit of the mount after Vauthry was slain, was a look of pure astonishment before he fled. _

His chat with the shade of Hythlodaeus and the bewildered words of Hades before they fought confirmed his suspicions. He knew what he was, but not yet  _ who _ .

_ “I… will remember. I’m sorry I couldn’t be  _ them _ ,” _ were the last, quiet words he spoke to Hades.  _ I cannot be whoever I was. I don’t have their memories. I am not whole. But if it gives you some comfort to know that your friend still loves you before you pass, you shall have it. And I promise, for you and for myself, I will find out who I was. _

Standing south of Revenant’s Toll looking at the Crystal Tower, he took out the crystal constellation he had found in Amarout and gazed down upon it. Azem’s crystal.  _ His _ crystal.  _ My name is Quennelaux Valeroyant, a sundered ancient who once held the seat of Azem, one of the fourteen members of the Convocation. _ True it was not his name, much as Emet-Selch and Elidibus were not names but titles, yet it answered his question nonetheless and brought him some comfort.

_ If Hythlodaeus is to be believed, _ and he had no reason to doubt his new old friend,  _ these memories within the crystal may awaken me as it has done to other Ascians. _ He could potentially be the very thing he rails against. He snorted aloud.  _ No different than becoming a Lightwarden I suppose. _ He would be free to keep his own mind this time, however.

_ Would the Scions and the Alliance leaders believe the same? _ A chill ran down his spine. Should he turn and become an Ascian would his own friends try to kill him simply because of what he was? Would they believe he had turned against them and have joined his brethren whom he regretted slaying? Would they even listen to him since he has kept this all quiet?

Even if all these thoughts were naught but his inner doubt, Ascians were immortal.  _ I would outlive them all. I would see the rise and fall of many a civilization. I would become resentful. ...I would be another Emet-Selch. A man tired of all the failures and squabbles of mankind. Ready to destroy it all and start anew. _

What does he do? Where does he go from here? Astrologian he may be, but the stars and cards could not direct this path of his.

_ “My dear, beloved sapling. You are lost- confused- and have precious little time to gather your wits. Your kind is always so preoccupied with what lies ahead… _

_ Stand very, very still. Think of not where you need to go, but where you are right now at this moment. At this time, in this place…” _

He closed his eyes and thought. Where was he  _ now _ , at this moment, at this time? He was Xynal, an adventurer, a friend, a widower, a father, a Scion, a  _ Warrior of Light _ . He took in a shaky breath still not able to erase the burgeoning thoughts on his own humanity.

_ “Even should you lose all that is dear to you. Even should it cost you your life… _

_ You bear the burden and fight on, kicking and screaming until your last breath is spent!” _

“I… have lost so much, given up mine own wishes for what was best for this very star…” He took a shuddering breath, holding in a sob. “And what was it all for?”

  
  


**_We never,_ ** **ever** **_forgot what was dear to us. And that’s what gave us the strength to carry on._ **

“For those we have lost…” Moenbryda, Haurchefant, Ysayle, Papalymo, Minfilia.

“For those we can yet save…” The Fortemps, Ser Aymeric, Urianger, Y’shtola, Thancred, Alphinaud and Alisae, Krile, Tataru, G’raha, R’vhari, Vuhne.

He brought the crystal to his chest as he sank down to his knees. “You were willing to give your very life, Quen. What’s a little thing like humanity?”

> **_“Among all the offices, the Fourteenth was most unusual. For while the rest sat in Amaurot, its holder was charged with gaining an intimate knowledge of the wider world._ **
> 
> **_In the course of his duty, he traveled the length and breadth of every land, and befriended countless folk._ **
> 
> **_He encountered troubles too, of course. Matters which he could simply refer to the Convocation. But that was not his way. Nay, more often than not, he would call upon his comrades, and together resolve matters themselves.”_ **

“S’not so bad when you think of it like that… And, you  _ did _ promise Hades you’d regain your memories...” he argued to himself. Try as he might, he could no longer hold back the tears. And so he wept. He sat there upon his hands and knees, crystal still within his grasp as he wailed through his despair and rancor until naught was left but reluctant acceptance.

When all was said and done, he couldn’t help but give a small chuckle.  _ Look at you now, o Warrior of Light. You could not avail anyone in your current state if you wanted to, being sorry for yourself as you are. _ What tear tracks he had left he wiped away as he composed himself. Twould not do for the savior of Eorzea to walk into the Rising Stones, fresh from a pity party.

He gave one last glance at the crystal holding the memories of the seat of Azem.  _ When the time comes, pray give me the resolve to see it through. _ He pocketed it away for safekeeping and turned towards home. The Scions were not wont to make use of his talents but perhaps whilst they were still abed, he could have them change their tune. Besides, cooking usually kept his mind off things. And though he felt more sure in his steps now than he was when he first set out this morn,

by the Twelve did he need a distraction. If he had to, he would forcibly make himself available. If today was any indication, being idle is a terrible decision.

**Author's Note:**

> I... kinda cheated with this one. But I do think it still fits the theme of helping others. Especially with that second definition I found. ...I should have used quotes from "To the Edge". Ah well another day, another prompt.
> 
> I also wrote this while sleep deprived. I blame that for the original sucky ending.
> 
> Was it just me who ran through all of ARR and HW thinking, there's something wrong with us? If so, here is legit all my thoughts on it from the perspective of my WoL.  
> Also, in case it wasn't made clear: Quennelaux Valeroyant is his birth name. No one calls him that save his parents, just Quennel. Perhaps I'll get to that along with his nickname of Xynal in a prompt later down the line. tl;dr: Xynal is the byproduct of his drunken friends trying to pronounce his name.


End file.
